


Liability

by followtheswallow



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Armitage Hux has a Poe Dameron kink, Blow Jobs, Commander Poe Dameron, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, First Order Poe Dameron, First Order pilot Poe Dameron, General Armitage Hux - Freeform, Gingerpilot, I think I'm funny in the tags, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poe Dameron has a praise kink, Possessive Armitage Hux, Riding, Rimming, Special Forces TIE Fighter Pilot Commander Poe Dameron, TIE fighter ships are sexy okay, absolutely non-regulation hair, dark!Poe, dark!poe dameron, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24737584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followtheswallow/pseuds/followtheswallow
Summary: The inspection is going splendidly. It is of no surprise, for pretty much everything on the Finalizer is running smoothly, ground and polished to perfection by General Hux's stern hand. The long, straight row of TIE starfighters is gleaming black and silver in the artificial light of hangar bay 6, as Hux marches by, each pilot standing tall and proud next to their spacecraft. The fighter ships are a beautiful piece of tech, efficient and deadly, and their pilots as celebrated as they are expendable. He doesn't pay them much attention, individually.Most of them will probably be dead not too long from now, twenty others already in training, waiting to replace each and every one of the troops currently stood in the hangar.Most of them, except one.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 20
Kudos: 69





	Liability

The inspection is going splendidly. It is of no surprise, for pretty much everything on the Finalizer is running smoothly, ground and polished to perfection by General Hux's stern hand. The long, straight row of TIE starfighters is gleaming black and silver in the artificial light of hangar bay 6, as Hux marches by, each pilot standing tall and proud next to their spacecraft. The fighter ships are a beautiful piece of tech, efficient and deadly, and their pilots as celebrated as they are expendable. He doesn't pay them much attention, individually.

Most of them will probably be dead not too long from now, twenty others already in training, waiting to replace each and every one of the troops currently stood in the hangar.

Most of them, _except one_.

At the end of the line, like a glittering crown jewel atop the head of a serpent, there is a special forces squadron. Polished jet-black starcrafts with red markings docked in the bay, their pilots standing motionless like statues made of inky marble. They are as close to a legend as First Order soldiers can get – equal parts fame and infamy, Stormtroopers walking through the Finalizer corridors, whispering about their impossible missions nearing suicide. Tales told in the mess hall, hushed voices filled with awe.

He's stood next to his prototype space superiority TIE fighter. Dressed in the Special Forces flight suit, helmet tucked under his arm, shiny and sleek, two crimson stripes running down the front of it like primitive warpaint made of blood. Hux's heart skips a beat inside his chest, utterly without permission, and his gaze lingers on the pilot. The man is different than all the others, different than anyone Hux has ever met in the First Order. Standing at attention before him, eyes bright and burning, hair _absolutely_ not regulation, lips curved in a confident smirk, is Commander Poe Dameron, leader of the SF Ghost Squadron.

His reputation preceeds him, and rightfully so, Hux muses. The Commander possesses a number of great qualities; he's ruthless, efficient, deadly. Also rebellious, reckless and cocky – flaws in character for which Hux should've sent him to reconditioning long ago, yet.. Yet he hasn't been able to bring himself to do so.  
  
Instead, he lets it slip.

Instead, he stares at Dameron's luscious, dark locks which are begging for Hux to run his slender fingers through them.

Instead, he imagines carefully unzipping the flight suit to touch the golden skin beneath.

It is not befitting a good leader to play favourites. But the Commander all but crashed into his life one day, and left a burning mark on Hux's durasteel resolve. He allows himself a couple more seconds during which Dameron has his undivided attention, and relishes the way the pilot laps it up, craves it, ever eager to please but able and willing to put up a fight, should the need arise. Poe's pulse spikes up and there is darkness in his eyes when he returns the General's look from beneath lowered lashes, the devastating curve of his lips slightly parted as wet, pink tongue darts out to lick at them briefly. He knows for certain that what he's playing is a dangerous game but when has _that_ ever stopped him? When has _that_ ever failed to make his blood run that much hotter? The wild need to reach out and touch, to disrupt the perfect exterior of the General standing right in front of him, almost within reach, is strong, stronger than any other instinct weaved into the fabric of his being. He longs to hear Hux's voice hitch. To see his plush lips part in ecstasy. To taste the soft skin of his inner thigs... But he knows he has to wait.

The darkness in his eyes grows ever deeper.

The inspection comes to an end, then, and Hux snaps out of his thoughts. His best elite pilot is still stood there, proud, radiating self-confidence, his wild hair the only thing that's out of place – by regulation standards – in the whole hangar. "Commander Dameron," Hux says, eyes two pools of pale, molten fire. "Yes, General, Sir?" Poe's voice is like liquid honey. Hux's jaw clenches at that. Poe holds his gaze, knowing exactly what he's doing to the ginger man. "I need to go over some advanced training excercises with you later today. Be ready at 1900 hours." Poe salutes and has the audacity to bite his bottom lip. Lust, hot and heady, laces Hux's blood at the sight. He wants to scream. Wants to make the other man scream in return.

***

"Come in." The sliding door to the General's quarters opens with a hiss and reveals his pilot. He revels in the way Poe, still clad in his beautiful Special Forces uniform, looks at him. _He looks so /right/ in here_ , Hux thinks fondly. He belongs here, in his chambers, for Hux to do as he pleases with him, just like he belongs in the cockpit of the special, modified fighter Hux has constructed as a prototype just for him. It is incredible; fast and powerful, just like the pilot himself.

Hux's features are sharp and cruel in the dim light of his room, but his skin is snow-pale and soft. He is lounging on the couch, the ice blue of it a stark contrast with the smooth black of his silky robe, revealing a deep V of his chest, littered with freckles. "Come here, Commander," he beckons with a gesture that's nothing if not regal. Poe obeys, gaze fixed upon the ginger man before him, lean legs slightly parted – a tease, an invitation. Poe's mouth waters. It is intoxicating, how visibly affected Poe already is, he's breathing fast, his bottom lip – red and shining - worried between his teeth. His eyes are filled with want and so, so hungry. Just waiting to be told what to do. Just waiting to be praised for a job well done. Just waiting to be used as his General sees fit. "How may I serve you, Sir?"

They end up in the bedroom, Poe moving to make a quick work of shedding his uniform but Hux stops his hands. "Let me," he whispers, more command than request and Poe freezes. Hux's elegant fingers slowly unzip the material and touch the smooth skin there, not failing to notice in the way the pilot's breath hitches just the slightest little but when a fingertip grazes his nipple. He's so delightfully sensitive. Hux is burning bright for him, burning in a way he's never allowed himself before. It should scare him, perhaps, but the little tremors running through his body are of a different kind.

Poe sucks in a harsh breath when the General drops to his knees in front of him. "Fuck," he mutters, as Hux tugs his flight suit down and lets it pool around his ankles. His cock is half-hard when Hux takes him in his soft mouth, and he sighs in pleasure. Tries his luck and cards his fingers softly through copper hair. The ginger man gives a silent permission and the grip in his hair tightens. The velvety length in his mouth grows harder. "G-General, you feel so good, fuck. Please, let me fuck your mouth, please," Dameron moans and Hux does too, almost entirely lost in the feeling of his favourite pilot's dick in his mouth. The taste of his pre-come, so familiar now yet still so unbelievably thrilling, sends a hot spark of arousal straight between Hux's naked thighs. He hums and sucks hard, pale cheeks hollowing and Poe shouts. Watches, eyes ravenous and wild, as Hux tilts his chin up slightly to look him in the face for a split second, and then parts his lips, mouth and throat suddenly relaxed. Poe lets out a quiet "Yeah, shit, thank you, Sir" and begins to fuck the willing mouth in earnest.

"Fuck." A sharp inhale. "If I keep going, I'm gonna-" Hux lets Poe's dick slip out of his mouth and the sentence is cut short with a gasp, when he suckles at the tip briefly and shoots Poe a mildly annoyed look. "You're going to come down my throat, Commander, that's what you're going to do. I have specific plans for you tonight." And Poe wants to laugh at the command and the hoarse voice that has delivered it, he feels feverish, like he might be delirious, and he's so kriffing hard. He _does_ come down the General's throat a couple minutes later, the ginger man swallowing most of what's been given to him, apart from a tiny bit that trickles down his chin. Poe hauls him up and cleans it with his tongue. "So filthy, Dameron," Hux hisses, as if he just hadn't swallowed the other man's come. Poe then kisses him, fast, rough and dirty and wrenches a moan out of his mouth. "Bed," Hux mumbles, "bed, _now_." Dameron smiles at him, his smile a cheeky thing made of shining eyes and pink, spit slicked lips.

He lies down on the soft, black sheets. Now divested of all his clothes, the sheets are a delightfully cooling sensation on his burning skin. A soft, content sigh makes its way past his lips, head thrown back, exposing the slightly sweaty collumn of his neck. The General hovers above him for a beat. Admires the way his pilot looks spread out under him like this; golden tan skin, dark, perky nipples, stomach soft with strong muscles underneath. He is beautiful. Beautiful, and _all his_. Then, a shuffle of silk tickles Poe's sides and warm breath ghosts his ear. "Enjoying yourself, Dameron?" Poe makes a satisfied humming noise. "Yes, Sir. Very much so." His voice is a bit raspy, and awfully smug. Hux licks at his neck, trailing kisses over collarbones and pecs and takes a nipple gently between his teeth. Poe sucks in a sharp intake of breath, as sensitive and responsive as ever and so delightfully pliant. "Please, G-General," he gasps out, not sure himself what he's asking for. Something. Anything. Mercy. No mercy at all.

Hux's dick is hard and leaking between his thighs but his gaze is focused and laser-sharp. "Permission granted to call me by my name, Dameron. Consider it a reward for exceptional behaviour." Hux lips curl in a cruel, self-satisfied smile and that smile is immediately kissed right off his face by Poe, mumbling "Fuck, Hux, yeah." into his mouth. They kiss some more, a clash of lips and teeth getting more heated by the minute. "Please, Hux," the pilot gasps, when Hux moves down his body to lick at the jut of his hip bone. "Please, fuck me. I need it. Shit, I've been needing it ever since the inspection this morning. You have no idea what you do to me. Standing there, everyone hanging on your every word, every movement. You're so fucking powerful." And _that_ goes straight to Hux's groing, truly setting the cinders of arousal burning there aflame. He bites down on Poe's skin, causing him to yelp in surprise and pleasure. Marking him. "You're mine," he growls and the pilot nods frantically, moans, his dick well on the way to hardness again. "Yes, Sir, please. I'm yours. Fuck, mark me, yeah, like that." Hux's mouth travels back up the other man's body again, biting and sucking bruises into his chest and neck. Poe is writhing under him, the skin on his throat tender and Hux exploits that knowledge it, makes Poe keen and momentarily forget how to speak. He talks a lot, both in and outside of Hux's bedroom, but he's fiercely loyal and ready to die for his General, for the First Order, if need be.

"Who do you belong to?" the ginger man hisses into Poe's ear, the need to hear it again strong and white-hot in his veins. "Y-you, Sir. I belong to you, I only serve you." "Damn right you do. I've heard you used to fuck whomever you pleased, you needy little slut, but your whoring days are over, understood?" Hux's voice is hoarse, he's nearing the limit of what he's capable of withstanding, soon to be needing something more. "Yes!" Poe shouts when he feels Hux's hips buck involuntarily into his own. "I haven't been touched by another since the first time you had me." "Good boy." "Ah! Everyone saw those marks you left – _ah!_ \- on me and I couldn't say anything. _Fuck!_ I wish I could tell them. _Hnng, yes, please, there.._ I wish I could tell them who left them there." Hux gives Poe's abused neck one last, wet kiss. The bruises, already blooming there, are beautiful. "You talk way too much, Dameron. I think it's high time you made other noises, too. Spread your legs for me." And he does.

The General lifts the dark-haired man's knees and Poe gets the gist. He's presenting himself now, exposed, sweaty and flushed. Hux smirks and slaps his hole lightly with two fingers, then dives in. The man above him lets out a surprised, choked-off gasp when he feels the slow drag of a wet tongue over his hole. Hux knows he loves this, and he himself loves it too, gets lost in the way his lover tastes, the way he's wrecked by whole-body tremors every time Hux's tongue does something especially wicked and clever. It's dirty and messy, with Hux's drool dribbling down onto the sheets and Poe cursing, on the verge of tears. He's loud and shameless in his pleasure and Hux drinks the sounds up, hums with delight and the vibrations make the other man scream. He's once again grateful for the luxury of sound-proof quarters.

When Hux presses his tongue inside the tight ring of muscle for the first time, a sob breaks out of the pilot's body. _Finally_ , Hux smiles to himself and keeps going. Poe is truly shaking now, muscles straining, the deep flush high on his cheekbones and low on his chest absolutely delightful. "Please," Poe cries, all smugness fucked out of his voice by Hux's merciless tongue. "Please, fuck me, Hux, Sir. I need you, _ah_ , need you to fill me up. Please, I want you inside me. Split me open." And the General contemplates it for a second, he genuinly does, thinks about deviating from his original plan, all because of this one impossible man that might some day be the death of him. But Hux is nothing if not a man of his word, even if it is just a word given to himself, this time. "No, Commander." A broken, pitiful sobbing sound. He laps at Poe's ass a couple more times and signals for him to let go of his legs.

The sight is devastatingly beautiful. Dameron, normally so smug and self-assured, is lying helplessly on his back, blushing and disheveled, a thin layer of sheeny sweat all over his body. Hux licks over his nipples for good measure, pleased by the sounds it elicits. By the way Poe's fists clench in the sheets, how messed up his dark curls look. Soon they will get to the main event, Hux thinks, growing more and more impatient with every passing second. He reaches behind himself and Poe watches, transfixed, as he pulls a steel plug out of his hole, lips parting around a quiet gasp, and sets it aside.

" _Hux.._ " Lube is being smeared all over the pilot's cock, hard and leaking for the second time that night, and then tight, velvety heat engulfs him as Hux positions himself and slowly sinks into place. The unwavering resolve Hux has been radiating the whole day is shattering as he's fully seated. He's sucking in desperate bursts of air, eyes closed, pale lashes fluttering. Poe gazes up at him in what feels like utter disbelief that such a beautiful creature is above him; chest heaving, erect cock flushed an angry, dark shade of reddish pink. Suddenly, he's overcome with a wave of unexpected affection, it hurts somewhere deep inside his chest and makes it hard to breathe. Thrown off-balance, he reaches out and laces his fingers with Hux's.

The General is making tiny, almost pained sounds and he's very still, as if afraid the tiniest movement would jostle him from the inside just the right way and this all would be over far too soon. "Look at me.. Please, look at me," Poe whispers gently, unable to stop himself, and Hux pries his eyes open to look at the man under him, knees bracketing Poe's ribcage. His breathing gradually slows down. The haze in his eyes clears up a bit and finally, _finally,_ he starts moving his hips. Slowly. Indulgently. They both moan in unison, the motion becoming fluid and synchronised. Hux looks breathtaking, pale skin glimmering in the low light, freckles dusting his cheekbones, shoulders and arms, hair in disarray. He's riding Poe with the same determination he does everything else, taking his pleasure from him while Poe murmurs quiet encouragement. "Like that, yeah, Hux. Just take me, you know I'm yours. _Oh fuck yeah_ , fuck yourself on my dick. You're so tight. So beautiful."

A small whimper makes it past Hux's lips. He wants to be articulate, to tell Dameron precisely how good his hard length feels inside him, because it's true and because Poe gets off on his praise, but his own cock is throbbing, untouched, his whole body begging to be allowed to come and only incoherent sounds spill from his throat. " _P-Poe_ ," he manages to get out and it sounds desperate, broken. Poe surges up, captures his mouth in a searing kiss and eats up Hux's whines with his tongue. It's perfect. Hux is close, almost each and every one of Poe's thrusts brushing against his prostate, making him see stars. The shorter man reaches between their sweat-slicked bodies and wraps strong fingers of one hand around Hux's length. He jerks him hard and fast, and when a fingertip grazes the hard, rosy nub of Hux's nipple, he convulses, as if struck by an electric shock, and comes with a wail. Poe follows soon after, spurred on by the way Hux clenches around him, and the pretty, high-pitched sounds he makes, as he paints both of their chests with his seed. He holds Hux through it and the General holds him in return, both men clinging to each other, come cooling and sticky between their bodies. In Hux's ass. Poe's dick gives a valiant twitch at the thought and he buries his face in Hux's neck. Feels him pressing a kiss into Poe's hair, breathing him in.

They lie there together afterwards, Poe curled up against the General, head resting on his chest. He always gets like that after they've fucked, but Hux allows it. Lets himself indulge, cards long fingers through the non-regulation-length locks, enjoying the way Poe's body feels pressed against him. In a while, the pilot will get up, dress back in his black flight suit and leave, because Hux won't tell him to stay. Cannot let this, whatever it is, become a liability. But he'll curl in on himself on the bed smelling like sweat and sex and Commander Poe Dameron and he'll sigh, spent and satisfied, and get first proper rest in a long while.

**Author's Note:**

> SO! This is extremely self-indulgent. I am a dumb hoe for Poe Dameron, for First Order special forces pilot Poe Dameron, and, of course, for Gingerpilot. 
> 
> Special thanks to Stef, because without the little Twitter exchange we'd had this fic wouldn't have happened, haha. Thank you for encouraging my Gingerpilot slutiness.
> 
> Also special thanks to Maeve, who came up with the title, because I'm dumb and cannot do titles. Thank you for encouraging my slutiness in general.
> 
> BTW, [THIS](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Eaay-BsWoAAxcF7?format=jpg&name=900x900) is how I imagine Dark!Poe. Damn you, Oscar in black bomber jacket!
> 
> If you want, come listen to me yell about Kylux, Gingerpilot, Renben and various other random things on [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/SoftInstability) xxx


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